


Trouble Sleeping

by soongtypeprincess



Series: Married Coppers [18]
Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Erections, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Married Couple, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 12:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16040216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soongtypeprincess/pseuds/soongtypeprincess
Summary: Sam can't sleep and only Gene can help him.





	Trouble Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> This is just shameless smut.
> 
> And yes, Daisy Bell is a cat they have. Working on a fic about her. :)
> 
> I DON'T OWN THE LIFE ON MARS CHARACTERS!!

The street light shone through the fabric of the shut curtains. Sam squinted at it and sighed as he rubbed his bare chest.

We need darker curtains, Sam pondered. These are old anyway. Maybe I could pop out this weekend to the shoppes. We need other things anyway, kitchen essentials and the like. Flour, sugar, tea bags, oh and Gene’s tins of meat, Christ why does he eat those? We may as well feed them to Daisy Bell. Oh God, we need cat litter, too, that’s important. I need to check our books, when do our checks come in? What day is the 3rd? I could pick up some toilet rolls. I mean, we do have some, but it never hurt to have extra, yeah? 

Sam shook his head to stop his internal rambling and groaned as he turned onto his stomach and fluffed up his pillow. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Almost midnight. Why can’t he sleep?

He sniffed and plopped his head down, his eyes to his sleeping husband. Gene was on his side, his back to Sam, and was snoring softly. 

How the bloody hell does he do it? Sam asked himself. He and Ruthie can instantly nod off as soon as their heads hit the pillow, but me? I keep myself awake. Talking to myself, worrying about the next few hours. Jesus, Tyler…

Gene’s hair was still a bit wet from his evening shower and Sam moved closer to him, the tip of his nose almost touching his clean skin, and he inhaled.

_ Davidoff Cool Water. _ Sam grinned, remembering when he got it for Gene’s last birthday. He found it at Harrods on one of their annual shopping trips to London.

Ruthie loved London. She enjoyed the bustle of the big city, the many smells of the food wagons, the candy shoppes, the bakeries. Gene tolerated these trips, for Ruthie’s benefit, although there was a pub he would never say no to, and they always had their lunches there.

Gene couldn’t stand London. He had been offered a position at Metro a few times, but he snubbed them. He didn’t know that city, didn’t  _ want _ to know that city, and every time they went, he could see Ruthie fall in love with it more and more. It only reminded him that Ruthie would be old enough one day to leave them, go off to university, maybe to Oxford, Cambridge, or heaven and Lord forbid, Strathclyde. The thought of her traversing through Glasgow on her own made his skin crawl.

Manchester was their home and he wanted his daughter to grow up where he grew up. Sam felt the same, although there were more opportunities in London. Still, Ruthie was ten years old and had close friends here. It wouldn’t be right to uproot her. 

The cologne was a piece of London Sam brought back with them, and when Gene unwrapped it, he smirked and rolled his eyes, admitting that “Sure, Sammy, it smells alright.”

Sam knew better. Gene put it on every day after he bathed. He would spray it once on his chest and once along his shoulders. Sam wondered if he wore it for  _ his _ benefit, knowing that Sam was the one who truly liked the scent.

Sam put his arm around Gene’s waist. He heard a small grunt from him, and  Gene’s hand lazily pat his before going back to sleep.

He pressed his nose against Gene’s back and sniffed again. He really did love the way his husband smelled. There were new things Sam discovered about Gene after they married that he had never noticed before.

They had shared a bed many times, of course, but it amused Sam to realize the smallest things. Like the fact that there were light freckles across Gene’s shoulders. He giggled when he saw them the first time, and traced his finger along each one and nearly every night now he would do that, and Gene would ask what he was tracing.

“A new car,” Sam would sometimes reply. Sometimes it was a jack ‘o’ lantern, or a bicycle, or if United won a match it would be a tracing of the final score. He would also trace the names of the teams City lost to, prompting a slap to the thigh from Gene.

There were nights where Gene would be too tired to be touched, but it never hurt Sam’s feelings. The freckles would still be there and they were his to enjoy.

God, I love him, Sam declared to himself. 

He closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips against Gene’s skin, between those lovely shoulders, careful not to wake him with his new whiskers. Sam had decided to give a goatee a try, and Gene teased him about his new look, giving it names like bum fluff and fanny duster.

_ “Maybe I want to look like Tom Selleck,” Sam had retorted after carefully trimming his new facial hair. _

_ “Selleck has a flawless ‘stache, Tyler,” Gene replied. “A real lady tickler. Also, you could  _ never _ be Tom Selleck.” _

_ “Sorry to disappoint,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. _

Sam smiled against Gene’s skin. For as much as Gene chaffed him about his bristled face, he couldn’t help but stroke it every chance he got.

Sam opened his eyes and realized that there was a new reason why he couldn’t sleep. His Y-fronts suddenly became quite crowded, and he sighed as he rolled onto his back.

“Shit,” he muttered.

He reached under the sheet and lightly stroked himself over the fabric of his underpants. He rarely wore Y-fronts to bed, usually for this very reason, but laundry hadn’t been done yet. 

Lord, I’m bulging, Sam mused. Where did this come from? 

The thought of Gene stroking his face, that’s where. Gene’s touch always got him going, but Gene was asleep now, and Sam was left at full salute.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered as he lowered the waistband of his underpants and held his shaft. He was still for a moment, his eyes closed as he thought of Gene touching him. He moved his hand slowly up his cock and emitted a soft moan.

Perhaps he can finally go to sleep after this release.

He tucked the waistband under his balls and stroked them with his thumb, thinking of the way Gene would knead them as he sucked him off. God, what Sam wouldn’t give to have Gene’s lips around his cock right now. 

The thought of Gene’s tongue gliding along his tip, slurping up the sticky fluid that dripped from it, gave him goosebumps. Sam inhaled again and caught another whiff of Gene’s cologne, and imagined his teeth nibbling his neck.

Sam bit his lower lip and pumped harder, his breathing getting faster. “God, yes…” he sighed and slowed his strokes again. He shut his eyes tighter and squeezed his cock, but the thought of Gene kissing his skin suddenly disappeared.

He grunted, pulling his hand away from his now throbbing cock. This wasn’t working. His mind was still reeling with tedious things, intruding on his lovely thoughts of Gene going down on him.

“Love?” he whispered. When Gene didn’t budge, he lightly stroked his back. “Love.”

Gene groaned as he awoke and rolled onto his back. “Wha…?” he asked in a groggy voice.

“I can’t sleep.”

No response. “Gene?” Sam asked.

“I heard you,” he replied. “What does that have to do with me?”

Sam took his hand and placed his palm on his erection. 

Gene huffed. “Oh,” he said, “I see. Have I been in your dreams, then?”

“Not exactly,” Sam said. “I was having trouble sleeping anyway, but now I  _ know _ I won’t sleep.”

“Take care of it then.”

“I tried,” Sam groaned, “but it won’t go away.”

“Try harder,” Gene said, shutting his eyes.

“Suck me off.”

Gene opened his eyes again. “Tyler…”

“Please, Guv,” Sam begged. 

“I’m too tired.” 

“I’d do it for  _ you _ .”

“That’s because you’re easy.”

Sam realized that Gene hadn’t moved his hand away from his cock. He lifted his hips, making his shaft glide along the palm. Sam lightly held Gene’s wrist and moaned again. 

Gene watched Sam’s face, how his eyelids fluttered, how the tip of his tongue grazed the corner of his open mouth, and how his breath would catch when he would stroke just the right spot.

Gene quite enjoyed watching Sam get off, but he needed his sleep. And so did Sam.

He pulled his hand away and Sam whimpered. 

He heard the drawer to Gene’s nightstand open and close, then the familiar click of the lube bottle.

“Get over here,” Gene muttered.

Sam turned onto his side and moved closer, where he put his back to Gene’s chest. Gene’s lubed hand instantly grabbed his cock and Sam gasped at the coolness of the liquid. He felt Gene’s other arm move under him and his broad hand lightly gripped his throat.

Sam’s cock throbbed once more as Gene pumped it in eager strokes. He gritted his teeth as Gene’s hand moved from his neck to his jawline. 

He loved to be restrained like this. Gene was reluctant when Sam first asked him to do it, fearing he would hurt him, but Sam trusted him, and that was enough to convince him to place his hand around his throat. He never squeezed, but just the feeling of that restraint always drove Sam wild.

“Yes, oh God, love,” Sam breathed. “Just like that. God, that feels so good.”

“You like the way I touch you, Tyler?” Gene growled against the nape of his neck. 

“Yes…”

“You like when I jack you off, eh? You naughty boy, you,” He paused to bite Sam’s neck and grinned at the whine he emitted. “I think it’s time to put you back over my knee. Teach you a lesson about waking me up just to service you.”

“Yes, sir, please...”

“You’d like that, eh? Kicking and writhing over my leg as I thrash your beautiful arse with my belt?”

“Jesus,” Sam groaned, his heart racing.

“Were you thinking about me sucking your cock? Slurping away at it like some hungry whore?”

Sam nodded.

“Oh, you wicked, nasty slut. Dear Lord, you’re about to pop, aren’t you?” Gene purred against his neck. “What if I rolled you over and slipped inside you? Fuck that tight hole of yours?”

“God, Gene…” Sam put his hand to his chest and stroked one of his nipples with his thumb.

“Yes, love,” Gene said, “play with your nipple for me. I want to hear you come.”

As soon as Sam heard these words, a loud moan escaped him but was instantly muffled by Gene’s hand. He caressed his hard nipple as Gene continued to stroke his cock, and he shut his eyes tight again, craning his neck as he felt Gene bite his shoulder. His sounds were stifled by the hand on his mouth and he felt close to the edge now.

Gene slowed his stroking and licked Sam’s earlobe before whispering, “I’ll bet you’d love to fuck my mouth right now.”

Sam moaned against Gene’s palm as he came, spilling his hot seed onto Gene’s other hand. 

When he quieted down, Gene moved away from him, leaving him on his back and trying to catch his breath. He picked up his vest that was on the floor and wiped his hand before cleaning up Sam’s mess. Gene smiled at him as he wiped the tip of his cock.

Sam looked up at him with a tired but satisfied grin. Gene bent down and gave him a loving kiss before throwing the vest back onto the floor.

Sam pulled his Y-fronts up as Gene laid back on his side, facing away from him.

Gene felt Sam move closer and then lips lightly kissed him between his shoulders before a fingertip began to trace along them. 

He giggled. “What are you drawing tonight?” he asked.

Sam sighed. “New curtains.” 


End file.
